


Five Ground Rules to Live With Natalia Romanova

by I_Am_Titanium



Series: Mi Vida Loca [3]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Ka-Zar the Corgi, Please don't get used to the fluff I am actually terrible at writing those, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, liho the cat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Titanium/pseuds/I_Am_Titanium
Summary: How does it feel like to share an apartment with the Black Widow?This little bird has much to squeak.
Relationships: Black Widow/Mockingbird, Bobbi Morse/Natasha Romanov
Series: Mi Vida Loca [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/968427
Kudos: 7





	Five Ground Rules to Live With Natalia Romanova

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's almost 2021 and I am still stuck in Blackingbird but what can I say THEY ARE THE BEST

*** Natasha Does Not Appreciate Dessert**

To be precise, Natasha _hates_ dessert.

Bobbi discovers this awkwardly after she brings back two strawberry milkshakes to the apartment.

"Natasha…"

"No."

"Natasha…"

"I said _no_."

"It has five different kinds of berries—"

"Don’t care."

"Damn you, Romanov, you are absolutely no fun at all."

As a result, Natasha just sulks in the corner of the couch as Bobbi drinks both cups after writing "Tasha is an idiot" on one of the cup with a marker.

"…Grow up, Morse."

* * *

*** Do Not Mess With A Post-Mission Natasha**

To be fair, no agent can stay normal (one way or another) after a mission, even for the best of the best. However, while a bottle of chardonnay (or three) and a slumbering day can get Bobbi "Jabbering Jay" Morse back online just fine, Natasha acts more like a… teenage girl.

"Nat? Should we have Indian for din—"

_"Out."_

The conversation above—Bobbi popping her head from the bedroom door, asking Natasha, laying in bed playing Nintendo Smash—happens almost every other time after Natasha’s mission.

But this time, Bobbi’s had enough.

"Get yourself together, Romanov." Bobbi rushes to the television and turns it off despite Natasha’s furious protest, "You can’t—"

"You are making a huge mistake." Natasha growls, pouncing on Bobbi from the bed in a swift move.

The battle is fierce. Pillows and blankets on the floor, science magazines and folk tales everywhere, clothes in the wardrobe either piled up disorderly or tangled with them.

As for the battle’s outcome, Natasha, still burning with rage, successfully presses Bobbi into the mattress, sitting on her waist, grabbing her wrists and pins them above her head.

"You will pay for what you’ve done, lady." Natasha threatens in a low voice.

Bobbi has closed her eyes in despair, but after the sound of an opening bedside table, to her surprise, she has an extra controller in her hand.

"Go turn on the TV." Natasha releases her with a smug grin, "We are going to be here all night and I will _wreck_ you… After you order the takeout, of course."

* * *

*** Do Not Touch Natasha’s Stuffs, Especially Vodka**

_"Morse!"_ There is a roar enough to solidify blood coming from the kitchen."

Bobbi, wiping bloodstains off her batons in the study, trembles as her precious weapons in her hand fall to the ground. "Ah-oh."

Natasha marches into the study with a bottle in her hand, enraged, "You drank my vodka?"

Bobbi puts down the clothe carefully as if she is trying to engage the charging Abomination, "Maybe… a little."

_"A little?"_ Natasha shakes the bottle with a Russian label. Nearly three fingers tall’s wine flows back and forth like it is mocking her, "you do realize this bottle was sealed, right?"

"Well…" Bobbi chooses her word even more carefully, "I was jogging along the bank the other day. When I came back, I was so thirsty that—"

"You drank my vodka like it was water?!" Natasha is so mad that words actually fail her. She finally squeezes those through gritted teeth after a long while, "but they were brewed with pure communism potatoes!"

Bobbi is trying her hardest not to laugh because apparently that is the worst thing she can possibly react with now. So instead she picks up the cloth and the batons by her feet to carry on maintaining, pretending to ignore Natasha’s presence.

"Don’t you dare act as if I’m not here, Morse." Natasha hits the nail on the head as she snatches the batons from a reluctant Bobbi, "this is your mess. You need to fix it."

"They opened a new Russian place over at the Upper East Side. Quite genuine, from what I’ve heard," Bobbi flashes her brightest grin at Natasha, still glaring but with a little less intensity, "I’ll take you out?"

The redhead sighs and returns the batons, "you’re so lucky I fancy you, woman."

"My honor, Tasha, my honor."

* * *

*** Do Not Bully Natasha’s Cat**

A dark and blurry fur ball shoots into the kitchen meowing when Natasha and Bobbi are sitting by the table, drinking coffee and browsing through newspaper.

"Liho!" Natasha put down her mug and _New York Times_ sport sector in a hurry to open her arms. The black cat leaps onto her lap in one graceful movement, tiny paws out seeking consolation.

"Bobbi, has your dog been—" Natasha inquires coldly, scratching the back of its ear.

" _My dog’s_ name is Ka-Zar and you can’t accuse me like this every time your precious kitty _acts like_ it’s having a rough day." Bobbi shoots an annoyed glance at the cat, but she succumbs and pushes her plate of scrambled eggs towards it. Liho climbs onto the table and is dining on it in a heartbeat.

"Here ya go. Truce, or whatever. Go celebrate your despicable victory wagging your devilish tail." Bobbi is just in time to salvage her full mug from tumbling over and her plate of bacon in watchful amber eyes.

She finds Ka-Zar under the table in the study with new scratch marks on its white heart-shape butt, whining pathetically in the corner, trying to lick its wound by bending over but failing.

"I know, I know, pal. That cat is just pure evil," Bobbi put down the plate on the ground, sighing, "not to mention its owner…"

The corgi woofs in agreement, chewing on the bacon.

"Just… hang on, Ka-Zar," Bobbi pats its head, "when I find a way to kick that owner’s ass…"

The corgi’s ears lower once again.

"Alright, that might take a long, long time…" Bobbi mumbles.

Natasha, leaning on the study’s doorframe, rolls her eyes.

* * *

*** No Men Within the Apartment**

When the first ray of sunlight hits the apartment floor, Bobbi sneaks into the kitchen. She puts the toaster on pre-heat, finds toaster in one counter, finds milk in the fridge—

_Click._

The light in the kitchen switches on, startling Bobbi into spilling half box of milk in the sink.

"What kind of man can have this kind of treatment when I don’t, having breakfast made for him at dawn?" Natasha speaks in a satirical tone standing by the kitchen door.

"I didn’t…" Bobbi is just about to defend herself when she sees Natasha raises her eyebrows at her lower body. She follows her look to realize she is not wearing pants, two milky thighs shining faintly in the light, "…none of your business."

Without words, Natasha turns and walks toward the bedroom. Bobbi yelps and tries to chase her in big strides, but Natasha is already pushing open the bedroom door.

Someone with brown curly hair turns over under the cover and grumbles, "Bobs… come back to bed… my flight is in the afternoon…"

"Seriously, Bobbi," Natasha rubs the bridge of her nose in resignation, "eight million people in the New York City and you have to bring home the director of MI13?"

Hearing a voice that does not belong to "Bobs", the man is somewhat more lucid. He sits up on his elbow and stares blankly with her clearer British accent, "and this beautiful lady is—"

"—the owner of the apartment." Natasha snatches the jeans on the chair and toss them to the bed, "you have two minutes to dress up and get the hell out, Lancelot Hunter."

A minute and forty-eight seconds later.

"Next time you bring a man over, I’ll kick you out as well," slamming the door shut behind her, Natasha threatens.

"That’s not fair, Nat!" Bobbi sits on the couch with her arms cross and a huge pout, "I am a woman and I have perfectly normal needs!"

Natasha walks to the couch and shrugs, "who said anything about only men being able to meet them?"

"?" Bobbi is pinned to the cushion before she can make any questioning noise. She tries to put up a fight, she really does, but Natasha is on and all over her, her presence so strong it knocks all the air out of Bobbi’s lungs, or maybe it is because of her stunning beauty, "…!"

"SHIELD clocks in won’t start for another few hours," Natasha leans in and bites down hard on Bobbi’s ear, "think the couch you choose is sturdy enough?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos pls pls pls
> 
> Come find me on Tumble at @Sorceressesruntheworld


End file.
